


Tossed Salad

by bloodandcream



Series: Ship all the Ships [87]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal, Face-Fucking, Humor, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5438792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam just likes really butch, masculine guys. Unfortunately, since he’s kind of big and masculine himself he tends to get hit on by the more effeminate guys. Even more unfortunate is that Dean’s predominately heterosexual - and frequently married or otherwise taken - coworkers are exactly the kinds of guys that Sam often looks for in porn.<br/>Life is hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tossed Salad

God.

Sam really should be used to this by now.

Honestly, he’s just embarrassing himself.

It’s not like he hasn’t met some of Dean’s co-workers before. Hung out for a few beers. Played some darts. Had a grill out in the back yard of Dean’s modest but well kept slate gray painted bungalow. Sam really, really needs to just control himself.

He can’t help it if he’s still single and Dean works in construction with some very, very attractive guys. Fit, muscular, tan guys.

God, Sam needs to get out more.

Some girls he works with are always trying to fix him up with their friends. Like being gay is the only criteria one needs in common to find a compatible match. Well, there are even a few cute gay boys - and Kevin is bi - at the dog grooming salon that he works at. But, they just don’t click with him. A lot of them are just….. really effeminate.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Sam just likes really butch, masculine guys. Unfortunately, since he’s kind of big and masculine himself he tends to get hit on by the more effeminate guys. Even more unfortunate is that Dean’s predominately heterosexual - and frequently married or otherwise taken - coworkers are exactly the kinds of guys that Sam often looks for in porn.

Life is hard.

So he really should be used to this. But the new guy at Dean’s work that apparently his brother has made fast friends with already, the new foreman, is an incredibly attractive older guy. He has wrinkles in the corners of his eyes but his skin is tan and fuck, but that hair. His longer beard is immaculately groomed and his shoulder length salt and pepper hair is thick and lush and curled, and shit Sam just wants to run his fingers through it.

Right, he’s having a picnic in his brother’s back yard. They’re grilling meat - ha, Sam always laughs about how much no homo straight guys love meat - and it’s a completely all American Sunday afternoon, a let’s watch some foot ball get together afternoon.

Honestly, the worst thing is the guy’s voice.

Cain, that was his name. He has such a smooth deep voice, Sam can’t help it if his mind immediately starts thinking about what it would sound like to hear ‘on your knees boy’ and ‘open wider’ spoken in Cain’s voice.

All right, maybe Dean is on to something when he says a guy just needs to get laid sometimes whether it’s serious or not. It has been way, way too long for Sam.

So, he’s fixing salad on the flecked granite countertop in Dean’s galley kitchen while all the ‘real man’ are outside handling meat, when he hears, “Mm, these cherry tomatoes are so ripe.”

And to his horror, turns around to see Cain popping a plump small tomato in between his lips and bursting it on his teeth.

Sam definitely does not make any inappropriate high pitched noises.

“Is it only you in here, making the salad?”

Coughing, Sam turns back to chopping romaine lettuce, “Uh, yeah, not really in high demand. We won’t go through too much salad.”

He feels Cain’s hip bump against his side and the guy is tall, almost as tall as Dean, but that still means he’s a few inches shorter than Sam.

Sam has always lamented the fact that he turned out to be such a bottom boy when he’s so goddam tall.

Cain’s voice is low, close. “Tell me, do you make your own vinaigrette? Just a fresh squeezed lemon with a little virgin olive oil and a few select herbs, it’s even better than store bought and so simple to make from ingredients most house holds already have.”

Sam kind of wants to listen to him talking about cooking forever. “Yeah, I usually toss it fresh.”

Cain smirks over at him, long fingers tearing a few stalks of celery off. “Mmm, I do enjoy a good tossed salad.”

So, Sam isn’t really sure what’s going on. But he knows that all the guys outside aren’t going to come looking in the kitchen for a salad. They’ve got a cooler full of beer and all the meat out there, they’re fine. What Sam really, really wants is to let Cain go on about how much he enjoys tossing a salad. With his tongue.

Sam got waxed yesterday. He’s still good.

God, he hasn’t made out with anyone in his brother’s room since he actually shared a room with his brother when they were teens. But dragging Cain up to Dean’s messy clothes strewn room is definitely preferable to bending over the kitchen counter. Cain’s beard is soft and fuck his hair is nice between Sam’s fingers when the older man pushes Sam back against the closed door, snaps his belt buckle open with a deft movement, presses their hips together and steals Sam’s breath.

Sam doesn’t need any further guidance to sink to his knees and open his mouth. Cain is hard and thick and shit it just makes Sam drool the first stretch of his jaw around it, makes him whimper to feel Cain’s hands in his hair pulling him forward, to hear that voice rumble, “Good boy”.

Sam would be happy just like this. He could get off rubbing his dick on the inside of his jeans while he’s got a cock shoving down his throat. He’s good, he’s golden, he’s ready to go. But Cain says, “Hold off” and he does. Shit, he’d do anything that voice tells him.

So he drools wetly down his chin and holds on to Cain’s hips and works his tongue along the shaft as Cain fucks his mouth. It’s a goddam religious experience. Doesn’t matter how tall Sam is when he’s on his knees, oh, he loves getting on his knees for the filthiest kind of worship.

Cain doesn’t take long before he’s pulling out, and christ but Sam follows after him like a dog chasing a bone, trailing after his own spit still thick strung between his mouth and Cain’s dick.

“Strip. Hands and knees in the middle of the floor.”

Cain doesn’t ask. He doesn’t coddle or croon. He doesn’t act like Sam is a delicate bottom. He tells Sam what to do and Sam really, really wants to listen. So in less than a minute he’s completely naked on his hands and knees in the middle of his brother’s room on the cream colored carpet watching over his shoulder as Cain pulls his hair back and palms his erection.

Fuck.

When Cain kneels behind him, nudges his thighs wider and places two work calloused hands on his ass to spread it wider, Sam arches his back and presents. Cain’s voice might be the stuff of wet dreams, but his tongue is put to even better use working Sam’s ass open. Warm and insistent, his beard soft, lips curling over that ring of muscle, hot and wet, Sam curls his toes and does his best to stifle his screams.

He can’t even keep a rhythm, Cain has no pattern, just curls his tongue over Sam’s sensitive skin then flicks in tight little swaths then engulfs his rim with heat and how does he even… what… Sam’s cock is rock hard and tapping up against his stomach as Cain slowly works his tongue inside and cups a hand around Sam’s balls, kneading them gently and humming as though in consideration but really, it tingles up Sam’s spine and he’s fucking shivering.

It might concern him, how desperate he is to get fucked face first to the rug in his brother’s bedroom, but he doesn’t have a single brain cell left to think when Cain is done licking open his asshole. So he just tips forward, folds his arms and sticks his ass out just begging for it while he hears Cain ripping open a condom wrapper back there. And shit if his cock felt huge in Sam’s mouth, it’s even better stretching his ass wide pushing deep as Cain grips his hips and sets a sharp pace.

Sam usually likes to think he’s pretty good, pretty collected, pretty giving when it comes to sex. But he just melts under Cain, broad hands slipping up his sides and strong arms circling his chest as Cain pulls him back and up. And Sam’s maybe a little fucked stupid, but can you blame him, as he backward straddles Cain’s lap and rolls his hips, head falling back on those broad shoulders.

Shit, he’s gotta ask Cain what shampoo he uses because it smells amazing.

Burying his head in the crook of Cain’s neck, Sam reaches one arm up to sink his hand through Cain’s hair and hold on as Cain fucks up into him with long dragging thrusts that tug at his rim and press at oh just the right angle. Sam whimpers and holds on tight when Cain’s hand wraps around his cock and comes right away, wet and messy up against his chest.

It’s only a few more shoves into his lax body still rippling with the pleasure of his climax that Cain bites into the meat of his shoulder and comes with a hard grind of his hips.

Sam is dopey and fucked out and ridiculously giggly still thinking about the come on line about ‘tossing salad’ when Cain pulls out and ties off his condom.

“You’re Dean’s brother?”

Sam flops onto the floor and rolls on his back, all dimpled smile and sweaty hair. “Yeaaaah.”

“Shit.”

“No, no what’s wrong, don’t be sad, please fuck me again.”

“I’m Dean’s boss, we shouldn’t -“

“I really want to sixty nine with you -:

“Oh.”

“You look like a dom kind of guy, do you like rope bondage?”

“Sam, have you been drinking more than beer?”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell if you won’t. Pinky swear. But really, Dean’ doesn’t give a shit.”

“You’re a very attractive man. I’d love to tie you up and gag you.”

Sam scooted his butt down until he could fold over and half crawl into Cain’s lap. “I like you.”


End file.
